


Awakened in the Third Age

by Andalus23



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25175698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andalus23/pseuds/Andalus23
Summary: Something went wrong with Naga's spell, the out realm gate didn't send the children to the past of their doomed timeline. instead they emerged, separated, in a strange new land. (Fire emblem X Lord of the Rings)





	1. Arrival

**A/N: Hello, this fic is on FFN as well, I don't quite know how tagging works on this site so apologies if it's tagged wrong. On FFN I said I wanted users to guess what the crossover is but I'm not doing that here.**

**Awakened in the Third Age**

  
Chapter 1: **Arrival**

  
Lucina staggered out of the out-realm gate, falling on her knees. She felt nauseous, traveling through time coupled with the constant malnutrition she endured in her doomed world certainly took its toll on her physically. She slowly got up to her feet, wobbling a bit from dizziness. Her head was pounding, and her vision was blurred, but she tried to shake her head clear of it. A loud crash from behind her made her jump and sent her forwards onto her knees once more. She turned around and noticed the doors of the out-realm gate had slammed shut and was now starting to fade away. There was no going back now it seemed, her mission was now set in stone. She rose up once again, this time with more confidence. Her vision cleared, as well as her mind. She took the time to survey her surroundings and gasped at the wondrous sight that sent chills down her very spine.

  
Many trees with their many coloured leaves swaying gently in the light breeze. Soft, short grass covered the forest floor along with fallen autumn leaves, glowing in the sunlight that peeked out from the canopies of the trees. She could even hear birds singing many melodious tunes as they called out to their kin.

  
 _'So, this is the past,'_ she thought, mouth still agape. She'd never seen a forest so alive before. Her future was filled with dead forests and burned grasslands. She only remembered hearing birds when she was a young girl, before the world had ended. She walked slowly through the forest, admiring the beauty around her. It still astounded her that her land had so much natural beauty to it. It was no wonder Her father had fought so hard to protect it. Her thoughts turned ill as she remembered what would eventually come to the serene forests and grasslands of Ylisse.

  
 _'Not this time,'_ determination was set on her face, she'd find her father, she'd save everyone, she would stop Grima! A sudden realization came to her then, she had no idea where she was or if she was even _in_ Ylisse. There wasn't going to be much saving if she couldn't get her bearings. Farther and farther she walked in the forest until she came across a wide dirt road that cut through it, 'Perfect' she thought. This road would most likely lead to some town, then she could figure out what land she was in, and where the next major settlement was.

  
She walked along the road for what seemed like hours, it was weird how quiet the road was, she hadn't seen a single person this entire time. Not even any soldiers patrolling the lands. Had she traveled back to the right point in time? Naga had told them this timeline was a little before her aunt Emmeryn was assassinated, a plot that would scar her father more than just physically for the rest of his life. Perhaps there was a war going on, so all the soldiers were on the front lines. If that was the case, she needed to make haste. She quickened her pace as she strode along the road with long strides, arm at her sword.

  
Suddenly, there was a ruffle in the brush beside her. Lucina instantly swiveled towards it. It could have been an animal, but she felt it was not a terrible thing to be cautious. Her arm was at the hilt of her sword, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

Then, a large figure calmly walked out of the brush and stood some distance up the road, and 'large' was an understatement. This man was well built and incredibly tall, probably almost seven feet in height she guessed. He carried a longsword at his side, which looked to be high quality too, castle forged steel she was certain of. A gruff face with hardened features stared daggers at her, appearing to be sizing her up. He had a real raggedy look to him; a grey cloak hung about his shoulders, his hood drawn over his dark hair, and his brown tunic and simple mail underneath hung loosely on his form. His other clothes consisting of similar earthy tones. All suggesting that this behemoth of a man was some highway bandit. Oddly, the man brandished a cloak clasp in the shape of a silver pointed star with eight points. A quick glance at the others who sat amongst the bushes showed they brandished this symbol as well. Lucina knew not of any noble house in the Halidom of Ylisse with this sigil, she started to wonder if maybe she'd arrived in Valm instead. Lucina also noticed some men in the foliage, his comrades most likely. She widened her base and stared at the man, careful not to draw her sword just yet.

"Who are you?" the man said, his voice was booming and seemed to command authority. Lucina stood her ground however. She was in no way intimidated, she'd faced beasts far larger than him.

"I am just a simple traveler," she replied.

"From where?" he questioned quickly. Lucina considered her words carefully for a moment. Should she tell him she was from Ylisse? Her blue hair and sword certainly were trademarks of Ylissean royalty, she didn't want them to be able to connect the dots and possibly expose her. And it was also possible that these bandits were some of the Plegian raiders that had started the Plegian-Ylissean conflict during her Aunt's rule. Exposing her lineage to them would make her a high value target, and she needed to keep a low profile.

Then again, Lucina doubted these potential bandits had the wits to figure any of that out so easily.

"The Halidom of Ylisse," she said with confidence.

The man paused, quietly observing her. He seemed to be pondering over something. Lucina could only guess that he was deciding on fighting her or not. Then the man said something that completely threw her off.

"I know of no such place, nor would I believe it is anywhere near here." Lucina's eyes narrowed behind her mask. This was strange, how did he not know of Ylisse? Even if she was on Valm, the legendary homeland to the descendants of the Hero-King Marth was known throughout every corner of the world. The way this man spoke also showed that he wasn't some simple peasant. He could also just be lying…

"It's probably far from here,"

"Indeed? And what business would a 'simple traveler from Ylisse' have with the little folk so armed?"

She raised an eyebrow, she could only guess that little folk meant peasentery. In which case she wondered why this bandit would question her on them. It annoyed her greatly that this ruffian would question her intentions. Lucina wanted to dispose of this man quickly and be on her way.

"No business, I'm looking to head to Yllisstol, capital city of Ylisse, I seemed to have gotten lost along the way."

  
"So, it seems," the man said with a low voice, his hand was moving ever so slightly towards the hilt of his sword, and Lucina's grip tightened around hers.

  
"There have been a number of unsavory characters wandering these lands as of late," his voice was low, and his hand was now firm around the hilt of his sword. Lucina knew there was going to be a fight, it was just a matter of who would draw first.

  
"Indeed, men such as yourselves!" she proclaimed, and almost in unison they both drew their blades. Lucina rushed the tall man, quickly closing the distance between him, the man took a defensive stand against her, his sword pointed out in a low guard. Lucina swung her sword in an upwards arc from low, clashing with the Bandit's sword as he deflected. She then brought her sword high and started slashing in a downwards arc but feinted her attack midway and thrusted the tip forward, but the man dodged her sword point.

  
Lucina slashed and stabbed, whilst the man expertly parried every blow. Lucina noted how uncharacteristically skilled this man was for a bandit, even if she was extremely weathered down from many factors, she was still quite the formidable swordswoman.

  
Lucina continued to pressure him, making sure to keep the man on the defensive. The difference in height made it easy for Lucina to keep the man occupied, she kept her attacks low so that he would have to extend his reach to block, then she would strike high to throw him off. If it weren't for the skill of this bandit, she would have easily taken him down already.

  
Finally, the man went on the offensive, and Lucina had to brace herself from the sheer strength of each strike. The man swung his sword high and slashed downwards with all his strength. Lucina knew she could not deflect that, so she leapt out of the way using her superior speed. She then thrusted inwards while the man's guard was down, but she over extended herself, and the man was able to narrowly dodge it. He then slammed his shoulder into her and Lucina was hurled sideways onto the ground, a good distance away. She stumbled onto her feet and held her sword out in front of her. She was panting hard from exertion, whilst the man seemed relatively unfazed. Then, two more men in similar dress walked out of the bushes and stood next to her adversary. They too had quite the height to them, but not as much as the tall tower of a man she was fighting. She also noticed a few archers crouched in the bushes beside her that had drawn their bows and were aiming them at her.

  
Lucina cursed, this was a tough situation she was in, she could rush the three swordsmen, and get a back full of arrows, or she could flee but suffer the same result. Now there was only one option left, she had to surrender, then while they were distracted, she would flee. Lucina lowered the tip of her blade to the floor; her enemies kept their guard up.

  
"I yield," she calmly stated, "You can have any valuables I possess, but there isn't anything of worth." Lucina watched with curiosity as the three men looked at each other, confusion clear on their faces. Just as they were about to respond, a horseman ripped through the bushes. His was dressed the same as the others, but his face was ridden with fear, and he was panting heavily.

  
"Black riders!" he cried, "They crossed the ford last evening, we couldn't hold them off," the horseman seemed panicked, and his voice was shaky.

The tallest man's eyebrows furrowed, "Go north," he said to the horseman, "Rally the others, and make haste! We'll be waiting at the Ford!" The rider then sped off down the road.

  
"What of the boy?" one of the Bandits asked.

  
"Our fellows are near, he won't get far," the tall man replied. He then turned to his companions, "Men! With me to the ford!" he cried, and they all rushed off into the forest in the direction the horseman came from.. Lucina was now left alone on the road.

  
 _'Well, that all solved itself out nicely,'_ she thought. Lucina wondered who these 'black riders' were. She figured that they could have been an elite group of soldiers, like the shepherds. In that case, they must have had some amazing capabilities if they were able to scramble the likes of the men she just faced. She sheathed her sword, standing firm as a victor on the battlefield, and awaited these black riders. Perhaps now she could get some answers about what kingdom she happened to be in. And if it came to it, she would gladly lend them her sword in defeating those bandits.

  
She waited for a bit, but there was no sign of anything. So she decided to continue walking down the road in the direction she decided was north. As she walked, Lucina listened closely for the marching of soldiers, or the trotting of horses, but there was…nothing. Not even the sounds of birds or insects. The forest became eerily quiet, there were no sounds except for the crunching of leaves beneath her feet. Lucina couldn't help but be reminded of the terrifying quietness of the dead wilderness in her ruined future, and she started to feel an uneasiness creep into her. She stopped, and turned to face what she guessed was south, staring down the road. A chilling breeze swept past her and seemingly stripped away all the confidence she bore, leaving only a harrowing sense of dread that grew in her stomach every second. Her instincts screamed at her to run into the wilderness. She turned around and was about to sprint into the trees, but then, she heard it.

  
_clop….clop….clop_

  
The slow, steady pattering of a horse's hooves came from behind her. Her body whipped back around to see a lone rider a good distance away, covered in long, black robes, and sat hunched atop a black horse. A hood covered the rider's head, so she couldn't make out the face underneath. Her eyes drifted to a wicked sword strapped to it's side. She wanted to run, but she couldn't. Her trembling hand moved slowly to her sword, but she could not muster the strength to draw it. She stood only in muted terror as the rider came closer, and closer.

  
At last, the rider halted its horse a few feet away from where Lucina was frozen in fear. The Rider's head swiveled to look directly at her, and Lucina felt all her breath escape her lungs as she stared back at an empty abyss. For underneath that hood there was no head, only darkness. No eyes caught the glint of the sunlight. But she felt it's piercing gaze nonetheless.

  
The black horse huffed, and the rider continued down the road, ignoring her completely. Lucina continued to stare wide eyed off into where the rider had been. Her lungs burned for air, but she could not breathe. It wasn't until she could no longer hear the trotting of the horse that she was able to take in a deep breath, and she dropped to her knees.

  
Her breaths became fast, and her heart was pounding in her ears. No thoughts came as her mind was clouded by the terror of what she had just witnessed. The corners of her vision started to grow dark, until at last she fell forward onto her stomach, and plunged into a nightmare filled slumber.


	2. Hyarmentir

Chapter 2: **Hyarmentir**

**Six months before Lucina's arrival**

Severa trudged through the hot sands of the arid desert. The relentless sun beat harshly down her back, making her clothes drenched in her own sweat.

_'Sweating, I'm SWEATING, UGHH.'_

She came to the top of a sand dune and stopped for a moment to wipe her forehead from moisture. Looking out on the seemingly endless desert that stretched beyond to horizon, she sighed heavily. She wondered to herself why, out of all the places she could have emerged in, it just _had_ to be Plegia. And to make things worse….

"You know Severa, walking in this Plegian heat isn't the only thing that takes my breath away," came Inigo's voice

'I'm paired with this fool'

Inigo chuckled, "What, no reply?" he said while panting, "I thought that one was quite charming, wouldn't you say?"

"You're an idiot," Severa said, she pulled up the straps of her traveling sack and continued to walk down the sand dune, Inigo followed close behind.

"Ah! Her melodious voice rings out at last!" He cheered, "Now if I can just get a smile, I can die happy,"

Severa stopped and turned to face her aggravating companion, "You can die quickly if you don't shut up! Now stop wasting your breath!" she scorned. Severas ears were met with Inigo's gaudy laughter

"My Darling Severa, being so cold isn't going to help with the heat you know." Severa clenched her teeth tightly, she wanted to smack Inigo over the head right then and there, but she chose to ignore him. 

The two continued their journey across the scorching desert for a while in relative silence, much to the pleasure of Severa. She figured that Inigo had simply become too tired to try and flirt with her, she herself felt her strength waning with each step. The sun was too hot, the land was too dry, and the wind was starting to pick up, blowing sand in her face and eyes.

They reached the top of what seemed like their hundredth sand dune they had climbed that day, and Severa felt it was time for a quick break. She looked to see Inigo already doubled over, taking long deep breaths. Severa reached for her waterskin, she tilted it upwards expecting to be graced by the flow of water to quench her ever present thirst, but nothing came.

_'Oh..no!'_

She tossed her waterskin to the ground and fell to her knees, head hung low. Severa didn't know how long she could keep going. Her throat was as dry as the lands she walked. and with no water in sight it was looking like they were going to die of thirst out here in the Plegian border wastes.

"H-here, I've still got a few drops left," came Inigo's hoarse voice as he handed her his water skin. Severa snatched it with eager hands and quickly guzzled down the small bit of warm water. She looked back at Inigo as he stared longingly at the now empty water-skin and she felt a pang of guilt.

"You should have kept that for yourself," she said

Inigo gave her a tired smile, "It's all right, you looked like you could have used it more,"

She scoffed at that. It was hard seeing anything Inigo did as genuine, it could just be another poor attempt at wooing her, she thought.

They continued to sit in silence on the top of that sand dune, neither had the strength to continue walking. Inigo lay on his stomach taking slow, long breaths, while Severa stared blankly into the distance. Severa supposed that this was the end for them. Ironic though it was, they had just escaped certain death only to face it immediately after. Perhaps there was no changing fate.

Severa was ready to fall forward onto her face and await death, but then, something caught her eye. A small glistening in the distance. Her eyes widened once she realized what it was.

Water! She was sure of it! Even if it was a mirage, Severa wasn't going to pass it up. She mustered all the strength she could to rise to her feet, albeit a bit wobbly. She took one hard step forward,

 _thunk!_ Came the sound of her footsteps in her ears. Her legs felt they weighed as much as Grima himself, but she kept on, step after step.

"W-where are you…..going?" said Inigo, panting and out of breath.

"Water!" her voice was hoarse and barely audible, but Inigo seemed to understand, she could hear him scuffling in the sand behind her.

Closer and closer she came to the glistening in the distance. With every step taken, her hope for survival was growing. She could even see some vegetation! A sudden rush of adrenaline overcame her and her legs started to pick up speed until she found herself running towards the pool of hope, her last chance of survival. She felt nothing, not the wind in her face, not the sand blowing against her exposed skin, she could only see water.

At last! Her feet reached the edge of the oasis. She stood for some time, admiring the sight. Crisp, blue water filled a deep pool before her, great palm trees surrounded the water bed. In that moment, a sense of euphoria washed over her. A smile broke out onto her face as she took a sigh of relief. She was content, she was happy, she was tired, so very, very tired. So tired in fact that her legs buckled beneath her and she found herself falling face first into the pond.

Severa let herself sink, for even if she knew how to swim, she didn't have the strength left to save herself.

Something then tugged unto her collar and she felt herself being forcefully pulled upwards and out of the water. Severa lay flat on her stomach, violently coughing up water from her lungs. She pushed herself onto her knees, moving wet hair strung across her face to see,

"Inigo?"

He smiled and gave out a weak laugh, "It's not wise to swim while dehydrated,"

She shrugged him off, "W-whatever."

She slumped down beside the water and cupped the cool liquid into her hands and guzzled down as much water as she could. She felt the fog slowly rolling back from her mind with each sip she took. Severa sat back, feeling refreshed from the much-needed hydration. She looked towards Ingio, who was slowly sipping water from the pond. 'That dastard' she thought, 'why'd he have to go and do something like that now i have to THANK him! UGH!' She sighed, as much as it displeased her, she guessed she owed it to Inigo to show her gratitude..

"Thanks," she said in a small voice.

"Hmm? For what?" He asked

"For, you know, saving me or whatever," she mumbled.

Inigo laughed, "Could it be? Severa showing manners!? Please drink more water, you're clearly not in the right state of mind,"

She shoved him aside, her cheeks a tinge of pink. "Don't get used to it," she said. She stood up and dusted herself off from the sand that stuck to her wet clothes. She certainly felt a lot more refreshed, but there was still an issue of the lands they were in. It was going to be extremely difficult to escape now without mounts or much food, she also didn't know which direction to head in.

"Inigo," she said, "We need to get moving, now."

He scoffed, "On foot? We'd be dead before the day's end, Let's just wait here, I'm sure this is a popular stop for travelers,"

"Or soldiers," she retorted. "Besides, what good will that do for us? I don't think any would just have spare horses to give to us," She said. Inigo was right though, without mounts they wouldn't be able to make it far in this desert.

"Maybe we can ask him," Inigo said pointing behind her. She turned and saw a swarthy skinned old man on the far side of the oasis, who tended to a multitude of camels along with a few horses. He wore long red and black robes, His age was clear on his face but his body seemed strong. Inigo stood up and wiped sand from his clothes.

"Come Severa, Let's see if this man can spare us a horse or two."

"What, you think he's just going to give his horses to complete strangers? Don't be so daft" Inigo chuckled at that.

"Fear not Severa, with a bit of tact, and a great deal of charm, I'm sure we can persuade him. Which is why I'll do the talking."

Severa scoffed, "And just what exactly are you going to do? Try and woo him?"

"I shall do no such thing!" he immediately replied, his voice showing a hint of offense. Severa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Just..don't say anything stupid, alright?" Inigo nodded in understanding.

As he walked towards the man Severa grabbed his shoulder to stop him, "Wait," she said. Inigo turned to look at her.

"Don't use our real names." Lucina had warned them before entering the outrealm gate about the dangers of interfering with the timeline too much. She had advised everyone to use false names, especially when in the company of their parents. She had said that if they were to reveal themselves as their future children, then they might not be born in this timeline. In truth, Severa cared not. However, while she was in foriegn and hostile lands, it was best that the name she gives couldn't be traced back to her.

Inigo smiled, " I see, Just as Lucina had advised. I didn't think you'd actually listen to her instructions. After all, you're known to be quite...difficult"

"I never asked for your pitiful judgment, just do what I say!"

Inigo frowned and continued walking, mumbling something about her attitude not matching her pretty face. She truly cursed her misfortune to be paired with such a man as aggravating as Inigo.

Severa followed him as he approached the man, putting on the friendliest smile he could muster, "Excuse me, sir! My name is..uh.. Laslow, and this is my traveling companion…..Selena,"

Severa huffed. 'Selena? Really!?'

"You've got quite the amount of horses in your possession, do you breed them yourself?" He asked.

The man didn't answer. There was an awkward pause as Inigo expected him to respond, but he only stared blankly at the two. Severa started to become anxious, was this man suspicious of them?

"Uhm, okay. Well, you see, we lost our horses, and we were wondering if you'd be so kind as to sell us one of yours? I assure you we'd pay any price you set."

No response.

"What are you daft? We asked you a question!" Severa shouted. She felt inigo's hand clasp her shoulder,

"Now Selena, there is no need to be rude to this kind man. Whom I assume is very much willing to sell us a horse,"

"Two horses, there's no way I'm sitting on the same saddle as you!"

"Selena my dear! This is hardly the time to argue,"

She turned towards Inigo, poking him in the chest, "Don't think I don't know what you're up to!"

Then the Shepherd interrupted them, speaking in a harsh tongue. Inigo and Severa looked at each other, then back at the man.

"…What?" said Inigo.

The man began shouting at them once more in this strange harsh language that Severa knew for a fact was not Plegian. She heard the Shepherd snarl and he began whacking Inigo with his walking stick

"Ow! Hey, what was tha- OW! HEY!"

Inigo fled and hid behind Severa, who had her hand on the hilt of her sword ready to draw. The man had stopped attacking and opted to instead wave his stick about erratically whilst shouting in his language. Severa narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on her sword. "Back!" She cried, "Don't come any closer!" But the man did not heed her warning and started to approach again while swinging his stick at her. Severa then drew to blade. She intercepted his swing with her sword, completely cutting the wood in two. She watched with satisfaction as the old man's demeanor completely changed, he now looked at her wide eyed, his other half of his walking stick plunged to the sand.

Inigo grabbed her sword arm and pulled her back, "No Severa, stop!" he pleaded.

She glared back at him. "Inigo, this man is clearly insane, let's just take two horses and leave him some gold."

"That would still be stealing, Severa. What if he tells someone with authority that two armed Ylisseans stole his horses? We'd start a war!"

Severa 'tsk'd' and sheathed her sword. "So then what do we do?" she asked, her annoyance clear in her voice

Inigo reached into his traveling sack and pulled out a small bag of various coins. "I think I can get him to understand us." Ingio took out a few from the sack and presented them to the man. The Shepherd snatched the coins and closely inspected them.

Inigo then shook the bag of coins, pointed at the horses, then held up two fingers. The Shepherd looked at the horses, and then towards them. He nodded in understanding. The Shepherd hurried back to his flock and pulled out two steeds. He waved at Inigo to come to him.

Inigo shrugged his shoulders and gave Severa a very smug look as he walked over to the man. Severa crossed her arms and followed behind.

The Shepherd outstretched his hand, and Inigo placed his entire bag of coins in his palm. The man then handed over the reigns to two horses to Inigo though he looked somewhat unnerved.

"Quite generous, aren't you?" said Severa sarcastically.

"He's giving us two of his own horses. Also, you did ruin his walking stick." Severa rolled her eyes at that. "Besides, you still have gold, right?" he asked

"Not for _you_."

Inigo smirked, "Well, one of these horses is for you, so you could pay me for it or you can walk. Your choice,"

She groaned and pulled out some gold and silver coins to give to him. He looked down at the amount and frowned, "I think I deserve more."

"I'll pay you more when I need to, let's just get out of here," she said. They both mounted their steeds and rode away. Inigo turned waved back at the man.

"I thank you, good sir!" He called out. The man continued to stare blankly at them once more. "I don't think he understood me."

They rode for a long while, following tracks made by the Shepherds flock, She'd figured he had to have come from some settlement. Severa would stop occasionally to survey the area for anyone that might see them. She hoped they didn't come across any soldiers, their presence no doubt raise unwanted suspicion. Severa remembered her mother telling her of the rule of King Gangrel, and the uneasy tensions that existed between the two nations, any small incident would have caused a conflict in those times. So, it was of utmost importance that they made it across the border soon.

It was some time later, while the sun was setting, that they stopped before some palm trees and dismounted. They tied their horses to the trees and settled down under them. A small fire brimmed between them, fueled by twigs from shrubs, and dead weeds. Severa shivered and huddled closer to the flames, It wasn't much, but any warmth was welcome for the desert night.

"It would be best if we huddle together for warmth, this fire isn't going to do much," Inigo suggested with a smile.

"Don't even think about coming any closer, you swine!" She sneered. Inigo laughed as he laid himself beside the fire, staring at the stars above. Severa quietly stared into the flames, watching them flicker and dance.

"You know Severa, I was thinking-"

"If this is another one of your poor attempts at flirting then I don't want to hear it."

He chuckled, "No, no, don't worry, nothing like that."

"Then?"+*

Inigo turned his head back upwards, "I was just thinking about how different the past is, It's...more peaceful."

"It's not peaceful at all, don't you remember how many wars happened during these times?" Severa interrupted.

Inigo frowned, "Yes yes I knew that. But I meant that there's no sign of Grima anywhere to be seen! No Risen have attacked us all day, his giant form isn't looming around the sky. No dark clouds covering the bright sun for months, I'd say this is quite peaceful."

Severa sighed, she supposed he had a point. The past was definitely different. Severa sat staring into the flames as she twirled her locks with her fingers. She mused over the future, the darkness that had assailed her world continued to linger on in her heart. She remembered all the death and bloodshed. She remembered the fear and hopelessness of everyone around her. She remembered her parents leaving one day and never coming back. Severa pulled her knees to her chin and balled her hands into fists. Such evil days they were, and they were the days she would never forget.

"Severa?" came inigo's concerned voice. Severa was then broken from her trance. "Are you all right, you seemed troubled,"

"It's nothing, just sit there and stare at the sky." 

Inigo smiled at her as he rose to a sitting position.

"You're thinking of the future, aren't you?" He said. Severa was silent. "Well, I guess I'll take your silence as a yes. Try not to think about it too much, after all, things are going to be different now that we are here." He gave her an earnest smile. For some reason, it made her feel just a tiny bit better.

"Just lay back and watch the stars twinkle above us, it's quite calming I'd say. Especially these stars. They are different tonight." he told her.

Severa gave him a puzzled look, "What? The stars are the same every night what are you talking about?" Her eyes widened when she looked up to see a foreign sky. A full moon shone bright and high, but the moon itself looked different. Many stars were arrayed in patterns that Severa did not recognize. And she knew greatly of the worlds constellations. It was after all a favourite activity of hers to gaze at the night sky with her father, back when he still lived. She remembered how they used to stay up late into the night while her father pointed out the various constellations to her; of which none appeared now.

"Th-this is impossible, stars don't change!" she stuttered.

"Hmm? Perhaps it's because we are in Plegia that it might seem different." Inigo said indifferently.

"I've been to Plegia and the stars were the same, Inigo," 

He waved his hand dismissively, "We're probably tired, we did have quite the arduous journey today. Perhaps we just need some rest, that's all." he told her. He was probably right, the days events were quite exhaustive and she was starting to feel like she could pass out at any moment.

Severa lay down on her side, using her traveling bag as a pillow, and tried to drift off to sleep. It was a quiet night, no wind added any chill. No insects or animals called out. In truth, it made her anxious, it reminded her of the future. She half expected blood curdling screams from a risen ambush to rouse her from rest. But she knew that wasn't likely, she knew that this was not her future. Things were going to be different now, they were going to be better, this timeline would never have to know the terror that Grima would unleash.

She hoped.

* * *

**Inigo**

That night, Inigo had dreamt he was lounging upon a large field of short and soft green grass. The sun peeked out occasionally from the white clouds that were scattered in the afternoon sky. A light and cool breeze swept past him on a warm summer day. A small but gratifying picnic was laid out before him. To his right, a fair maiden laid beside, feeding him small fruits. "This is a dream," Inigo said, "But a welcome one,"

He looked upon the face of the fair maiden beside him, who smiled at him.

"My love, might I ask you a question?" she asked sweetly. She then rose to stand above him.

Inigo smiled back, "Certainly my darling, what ever would you ask of me?" The girl turned away from him, staring off into the distance. Inigo could hear quiet sobs from her. He got up to console her.

"My lady, what troubles you?" He asked, placing his arm around her shoulders. She turned to him, tears streaming down her face.

"Inigo," she sobbed, "Will you stay with me forever?"

"Of course, I am yours and you are mine, what makes you ask this?" He was lying of course; he would stay only until the next beautiful maiden caught his eye. She threw his arms off her and backed away as she stared into his eyes. Her face changed and she looked at him seductively and in that moment, she became the most beautiful maiden that Inigo had ever laid eyes on.

“Then come with me, sweet Inigo, follow what you desire,” 

A black fog had now formed around them blotting out the bright sun. The maiden backed away into the mist while gesturing for Inigo to follow her. There was a shout from behind him, and Inigo looked back to see his friends, surrounded by Risen and being cut down one by one. “Help us Inigo!” they called, but he was heedless. The maiden then came back and placed both hands upon his face, turning them towards her. 

“Follow what you desire!”

And so, he did, Inigo forgot all about his friends, and his mission, and followed the maiden into the mist. But the Maiden soon faded away into nothingness and Inigo was left standing alone. He looked up to see dark clouds blocked the sun. He looked down and saw the grass beneath his feet had been burned. He looked east and saw tall black mountains, but there was something that rose above them. The mountains started moving closer and closer to him until Inigo stood right before their slopes. A great tower rose then beyond the peaks, and at the very top a great eye, lidless, breathed in flame. It peered into his soul and he felt his body being burned by its horrible gaze.

He turned away and looked south. From the black fog were six glowing red lights. They grew brighter and larger. Inigo realised that the lights were actually eyes. They stared at him and a great and terrible laugh echoed from the darkness. A familiar fear coursed through him.

He felt a sharp pain in his ribs and dropped down to his knees. The ground beneath him started to quake and break asunder. Inigo let out a terrible cry as he fell and was consumed by the darkness of the world.

But that was not the end it seemed. From the darkness, a familiar voice called out to him, "Inigo," it had said, but he couldn't remember whose it was. "Inigo wake up."

He felt a sharp pain in his ribs once more.

"Inigo you slug! Wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open. He squinted from the bright morning sun. He looked to see Severa standing over him. She seemed panicked.

"Hrngh, Severa?" he questioned in a sleepy voice. "I was ... having the most interesting dream," She then kicked him in the ribs.

"Get up you idiot there are people coming!"

Inigo looked to where Severa pointed back in the direction of the oasis. There he saw seven men on horseback riding towards them. Inigo immediately jumped to his feet, forgetting all about his dream.

Six were wearing red and black robes with red cloth wrapped around their helms and under their chins, which flowed down to cover their shoulders. They wore simple leather chest and shoulder guards, though strangely not in the style of any Plegian soldier Inigio had seen. Five long sticks jutted outwards from their backs, and across the top they were wrapped together in red cloth. 

Another sixth rider rode in the center, he wore an extravagant, long sleeved, yellow tunic that appeared to be made from silk. A white surcoat hung off his shoulders. On his head was a golden nasal helm with a silver serpent engraved into the front. They were all armed with curved swords and round shields. Inigo knew these were not just some armed travelers or brigands. They were soldiers, and they rode with purpose. He also noticed one was carrying a long spear from which a flag was waving. A black serpent upon a red field. Inigo narrowed his eyes, he didn't know much about plegia, but he was almost certain those weren't any standards that Gangrel flew for his armies. Nor were these any clothing styles that Plegians would wear.

"Those aren't Plegian banners, there's no mark of the Grimleal" Inigo noted.

"Thank you for you're incredibly obvious observation, Inigo." Severa said sarcastically. She shoved Inigo's sword into his arms. "I hope you're ready for a fight,"

"Nonsense Severa, there will be no fight as long as we use diplomacy. Allow me to talk these men away,"

"These aren't some bumbling damsels that you can swoon with your cowpile of trite flattery! Use your head for once Inigo and think about how we look to them. Two Ylisseans that are armed just so happen to be riding through their lands, especially when tensions are so high. There's no way these soldiers are here for diplomacy."

Inigo furrowed his eyebrows and he stared at his sword. He felt a deep pit forming in his stomach now. He had never killed anyone before, anyone living, that is. Severa must have noticed his worrying look as she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in aggressively. 

“Focus, Inigo! It’s our lives or theirs! We have a mission to do, remember?” She was right. He did not come all this way just to die from Gangrel’s men. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, but that did little to ease his anxiety.

The riders finally halted about forty yards from Severa and Inigo. They stared at them both with great scrutiny. The rider in the center, the one who wore the extravagant clothing, rode a bit forward until he was within earshot. A bitter scowl was on his bearded face. He then opened his mouth to speak, shouting in the same harsh tongue as the man yesterday. Inigo pondered for a moment; it seemed the old shepherd did not speak in the meaningless tongue of a crazed man but was instead a real language. This was all very odd to him, their banners, their speaking, their clothes. There was nothing to suggest that these men were Plegians.

"I'm sorry, we don't understand." Severa said. In response the soldiers all sneered and shouted in their language. Inigo grimaced at the clear tone of hatred behind their words.

One of the soldiers then rode forward, "I shall speak in your horrid tongue on behalf of my master. He says, those are his horses," the soldier called out in a heavily accented voice. He then pointed towards the horses the two had with them. Inigo looked back at his steeds, a bit confused. They had just bought these horses yesterday, why would they be claiming them?

"Why would they be his horses?" Inigo replied.

"Because they are on his land! And the two of you are trespassing as well as thieving."

"We promise you that these horses were bought fairly, and that the man we bought them from was paid handsomely." Inigo said

The Soldier turned towards his master to translate. The Master then growled and spat out more harsh words.

"He says you are a great liar, and he will fight you because you are a liar,"

Inigo sighed, it was now clear to him just what kind of men they were dealing with. Inigo doubted that they actually cared about the horses, they simply see two foreigners and wished to cause trouble. "I see that they are not open for diplomacy," Inigo whispered to Severa.

Severa huffed from beside him, "Told you so."

Inigo sighed and shouted out to the translator, "Please sir, we wish not to fight."

"Then you must give him the horses," the translator said.

Inigo's brows furrowed. 'These guys can't be serious'

It was indeed ill luck he thought, to be met with some of the more contemptible Plegian soldiers. He wondered if these men were some of Gangrel's personal guard, seeing as they were just as unjust as he. But Inigo would not falter, he spent his very own gold to buy these horses fairly. Surely they must have met with that old man on the way here. Had he lied to them and said they had stolen these horses?

"We shall not give you these horses. Without them we will die in the desert," Inigo said.

"That is the price to pay for thievery!"

"For the last time, we didn't steal these horses!" Severa yelled back.

"Then defend your honour and your lives!" The man shouted a word back to his companions. The piercing sound of steel scraping against their scabbards rang clear as they drew their swords. He squinted at the bright glare of the sun on their scimitars. A pit formed in Inigo's stomach. He had never seriously fought another living person before.

He swallowed dry. His throat was parched. His quivering hand reached for the hilt of his sword and he slowly slid the steel from its sheath. The sword felt heavy in his arms. His breaths were slow and long as he tried to calm himself. Seven on horseback against two on foot. Even if Severa and his skills with the blade were far above the average, the odds were still clearly stacked against them.

"Inigo!" came Severa's angry voice. He turned to see her seated in the saddle of her horse, sword in hand. "Get on your horse you dunce!"

‘Oh, right!’ He rushed to his steed and quickly climbed it. He gave Severa a sheepish smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Idiot," he heard Severa mutter under her breath. The two of them turned to face their adversaries, swords ready in their hands. Inigo was feeling a bit more confident now,his skills in horsemanship were nothing to be taken lightly. He after all, was trained by his father, the greatest knight in all of Ylisse. He ran a hand through his brown hair as he observed the soldiers, who had arrayed themselves in a line. Their horses neighed and stirred, eager to charge.

"Any plans Severa? You are the daughter of a great tactician," Inigo said. She quickly swiveled her head to glare daggers at Inigo.

"Just because my father was some super special strategy genius doesn't mean I am! Don't assume things about me!" She hissed.

Inigo was a little taken aback by this. 'Seems I've struck a chord.' He opened his mouth to respond to her but stopped once he heard the battle cries of their adversaries. They now had begun to move forward into a swift gallop.

Severa then spoke suddenly, "Alright listen, Ride left towards the outside of their line when I say, I will be going right. After you pass, come back around and ride towards their rear. We will catch them off guard this way," 

Inigo smiled, "At once, Miss Grand Tactician!" Inigo chuckled a bit when he saw her give him a sidelong glare. The two stay still watching the riders approach. Closer and closer they got until they were about a stone's throw away.

"Now!" shouted Severa and they both spurred their horses into action. Inigo's horse sprinted left and he readied his sword to strike. He came towards the outermost rider and he was now well within reach of his sword. The rider swung at him, but Inigo ducked low and swiped across the riders side. He heard him cry in pain as Inigo blew past him. 

Without stopping Inigo had arced his steed around and now drove forward towards their flanks. Severa had done the same. Just as she said, they were too distracted by turning their horses around to counter them, catching them off guard. The two then rode through gaps in their line, Inigo swung at the neck of a rider, over his shield. Red blood sprayed out and the rider slumped off his horse. Inigo grimaced as he rode away. It truly sickened him to be fighting living men, but as Severa said it was their lives or his.

"Again!" cried Severa and without missing a beat the two were once again charging the soldiers, who sat in a confused state trying to coordinate another line. The two rode through their line again, and two more soldiers had fallen. Five now remained, and one was badly wounded. They seemed to realise coordination was futile as they then split up to chase the two.

Inigo peeked over his shoulder and saw three pursuers, one being the leader in yellow. He looked to see Severa being chased by two others. He quickly arced and rode for the leader, his sword pointed out front. The leader seemed more prepared than the others as he was able to parry Inigo's sword and swung for his neck. Inigo's eyes widened and he forcibly leaned away from his scimitar. Inigo gasped as he felt himself slipping from the saddle. He tried to pull in his horse's reins, but it kept moving forward. Finally, Inigo lost his grip and tumbled into the sand. He quickly rose to his feet, sword in hand. Two soldiers and the leader now circled him, laughing, and taunting him.

'This isn't good,' he thought. There was no way he could win against three mounted units by himself. His eyes fell upon one of the soldiers and he noticed that he was the translator from before. He smiled, perhaps he could parlay and try to get the odds back into his favour. Though on the surface Inigo seemed nothing more than a flirt, he had more of a way with words then he let on. For instance, he knew exactly how to get a rise out of someone and get them to act rashly. Which would be his best bet now.

"Wait," He called out, "Will you not dismount and fight me fairly?"

The translator laughed in response, "And why should we fight you fairly? We are great warriors and you are but a mere snake. Are the men of the west truly so spent that they would send the likes of you to spy in our lands?"

Inigo paused, west? But west would be Valm, Did he think he was one of Walhart’s men? From what Inigo remembered from history, Walhart had never been at war with Plegia. 

"I am not from the west, but I assure you where I'm from we fight with honour and we do not fear our enemies. If you will not fight me fairly that means you are scared. You rely on strength of numbers rather than your own abilities. Frankly, I'd say you are not befitting of being called great warriors."

The translator seemed to surge with anger, "How dare you! A liar and a thief you are!" He roared. He turned towards his master and translated his words to him, and the master appeared to be visibly insulted. The three halted themselves and seemed to argue with another. Inigo grinned, this was all going according to plan.

"I challenge your master to single combat, should he be as great of a warrior as he claims he will take this offer and end me swiftly. What say you?" 

The translator said Inigo's words back to his master. The master snarled at him and then dismounted, staring at Inigo with hateful eyes. He unpinned his white surcoat and let it drop to the ground. Inigo grinned, this was exactly what he wanted. He was certain he could take him on, if the two others stayed out. 

In any case, all he needed to do was stall, just until Severa could rush in and take the others by surprise. He quickly glanced around, but he saw no sight of her, nor the soldiers that pursued her. 'Severa, I hope you’re near.' 

They circled each other, looking for any opening to strike. Inigo kept his sword pointed high, while the leader held his scimitar above his head, his other hand behind his back. Inigo's breathing was heavy, and he stumbled a bit as he moved. Suddenly, the leader attacked and slashed his sword downwards, Inigo parried effortlessly. The man then drew back his blade and cut from high again, then from low, and back high, but no strikes were able to land as Inigo parried each, but he could tell the master was only testing him. 

The Master eased back a bit and then suddenly thrust his scimitar in, Inigo sidestepped, his scimitar then slashed sideways, Inigo leapt back just in time. The master swung again, miss, he slashed downwards, miss, cut upwards, missed again. The master roared with anger, but Inigo was almost laughing as he danced around his blade. 

Was this it? This was the great warrior? Though Inigo would be lying if he said the Master wasn’t skilled, he certainly was, but Inigo was far better. However too many times did the Master foolishly leave himself open to be countered, but Inigo would not take advantage of it, he wanted to stall as long as he could.

Finally, the Master pulled his scimitar towards him and lunged forward for a stab and Inigo quickly sidestepped him. There was now a clear opening that was much too tempting to resist.

“Mind if I cut in?” Inigo said. 

Inigo then quickly thrust his sword point towards his exposed side, but to his surprise, he struck air instead. The Master had moved at the last second. Inigo pulled himself back and was unexpectedly met with a flurry of slashes, and Inigo sloppily raised his sword to parry. The speed and precision at which the Master now fought with kept Inigo on his toes, he no longer danced from his blade, but he he now ran from it, fearing it like a stag would fear the wolf. It was clear to Inigo that the Master had been baiting him this entire time, but Inigo proved more formidable. 

Suddenly the Master stepped away and halted his attack, looking at Inigo with a smug face. It was then that he heard the huffing of a horse and the fast stamping of hooves from behind him and Inigo whipped his body around just in time to duck under the scimitar of a horseman. But he had no time to collect himself as another horseman had charged him also, his blade just narrowly missing Inigo by the hairs of his head. 

“You cowards! I thought we agreed to single combat!”

“We had not agreed to anything, you worm!” said the Translator. They reared their horses and readied themselves for another charge, the Master stayed beside them, chuckling to himself.

'Damn it Severa, where are you?'

Suddenly, he saw a flash of red rush behind one of the horsemen. It was Severa! Without her horse, however. She raised her sword and slashed at the unsuspecting soldier. He let out a great cry of pain as he was pulled from his saddle by her. She then plunged her blade into his chest.

Inigo, now seeing the master distracted by Severa's sudden intervention; took the opportunity to lunge at him and slammed his shoulder into him. The master was thrown back into the sand. Thinking quickly, Inigo slashed at him wildly. His blade seemed to have found it's mark as red blood sprayed from the Master's neck. He fell back onto the sand as blood pooled from him. Inigo watched in disgust and shame as the Master took his final breaths. 

“I’m sorry, it had to be done, you left me no choice,” he whispered, not to be heard by the master but more to justify his actions in his mind. Inigo then took and deep breath, and walked away.

He looked towards Severa who had now the last of the soldiers, the translator, on the ground. She stood above him with her sword pointed at his neck. "Please!' He cried, "Have mercy on me!"

Severa scoffed, "Just like you and your men showed us mercy? I think not, now stop crying and die like with a little dignity," she raised her sword high, but hesitated, on her face Inigo could see an almost pained expression. It was clear that Severa did not want to take yet another life that day.

"Severa," Inigo said suddenly, "You don’t have to."

Severa gave him a sidelong glance, "But we do! If we spare him the first thing he will do is rat us out."

"No!" the translator interrupted, "You have beaten us fairly, by the laws that govern my people you are now my master. I swear I shall do nothing to hinder you!"

Severa sighed heavily and sheathed her sword, "Fine," she said. The man was almost crying with relief. 

“Thank you, thank you! You will not regret this!” the translator said.

Inigo smiled at the man and helped him to his feet.

"What would you have me do?" the man asked.

Inigo thought for a moment. What the two needed right now the most was to get to Ylisstol and meet up with the others, though he had no clue of what direction to head. "Can you take us across the border?" Inigo asked.

The man gave a puzzled look, "No, that is much too far from here."

Inigo heard Severa huff beside him, "Then what are you even good for?"

"Wait," he pleaded, "I cannot take you back to your lands, but I can take you to the nearest town to restock supplies, and from there you may continue north as you please."

"North?" Severa questioned, "Why would we go nor-"

"That will be just fine my good sir!" Inigo interrupted, "Please, lead the way!"


	3. Land of Stone

Chapter 3: **Land of stone.**

**Gerome, seven months before Lucina's arrival**

Minerva spurred left, dodging a hail of arrows that had come her way. Gerome directed Minerva upwards as he surveyed the battle that raged beneath him. Thousands fought in a ruined city, the buildings were a dull grey and decayed, but Gerome could tell that it was once a pearl of white and silver. The city was split by a great river, and upon a bridge had the two forces clashed. The bridge was large, made from the same white stones as the other buildings, and upon it were built many stone buildings and dwellings, which were now in ruins. A section of the bridge appeared to be destroyed and was instead replaced by wooden planks and scaffolding.

A small army of men in shining plate and mail armour, Gerome guessed at least five hundred, defended the bridge against a literal sea of soldiers dressed in black leathers and cloth. A number as high as tens of thousands he estimated. Why these men fought over this ruin, he could not say. Though on the surface it seemed to Gerome that this was just another of a series of pointless battles from a war spurred by greed of corrupt lords. But something told him that this battle wasn't as pointless as it seemed.

Indeed the lands that surrounded him were foreign to his eyes, he'd never known a great ruined city made from white stones, nor the river that it stretched across. But that wasn't all that was unusual. Beyond the borders of the eastern side of the city, past the black clad soldiers, was a green, but decaying, country and in the far distance were tall blackened mountains that encased dark clouds. An active volcano bellowed fire and ash into the air. An uneasiness crept into his heart from the very sight of it.

On the other side, a bright green country stretched for miles, dotted with flourishing crops and farmsteads, and in the distance, great white mountains that shone bright even while the sun was blocked by clouds. A fortress of immense scale stood at the edge of his vision, that seemed to be carved out of the white mountains itself.

Their banners were even more strange. The men in plate armour flew black and white banners with white trimmings, in the center was a white tree and seven stars lined above. Gerome could think of no nation with this sigil, neither in Valm nor elsewhere. The other force bore a flag with a sinister red eye upon a field of black. Even Gerome, with his ignorance, could infer that this flag represented a nation that believed only in the oppression and subjugation of all free men.

If there was such an implication of good and evil, this was it. The men clad in black that came from the dark lands were clearly the aggressors, and Gerome's sense of justice and honour beckoned him to intervene.

Lucina had warned them of the dangers of meddling too much with the past, but he cared not. It was their mission to save the past from Grima, and what better way to save it than ensuring people can flourish and prosper. For Gerome had no doubt that these black-clad men would ruin and destroy just as they had to their domain.

The battle seemed to be escalating. The smaller force of soldiers had now destroyed the wooden section of the bridge, which served as the only passage into the western side of the city. But there appeared to be a group of men that had stayed behind to give others time to retreat. Gerome stay above, as arrows from both sides had kept him from coming any closer. They all fought valiantly, creating shield walls with their great tower shields to hold their enemies at bay, but that didn't last for long. One by one the knights in silver armour were cut down until but a small company remained, at least fifty or so, and they too were being overwhelmed. Gerome knew what he had to do. He drove Minerva downwards towards the bridge. He tensed as he felt arrows whizz past him as well as bounce off the hard scales of his mount. But he was not deterred.

Gerome landed on a section of the bridge behind the group and dismounted, carrying his axe with him. Minerva then flew off the bridge to circle the area and avoid arrows. It was not possible for him to effectively fight from his wyverns back as the tall towers and narrow streets coupled with hails of arrows prevented him from doing so. Fighting on the ground seemed to be the best option. It was not often he fought on foot, but his skill with his axe was deadly even without his mount.

Gerome approached the group of knights, some had now turned their attention to him. Gerome could see on their faces was clear wariness. He understood completely. He had seemingly come from nowhere and his armour certainly fit the dress code of the enemy. The soldiers raised their shields towards him and readied their spears.

"I'm not your enemy, I've come to help" he said to them. Gerome then rushed past their bewildered faces towards the men in black, charging in with his mighty axe.

But then he stopped right in his tracks just before the hordes of men, only to see that these weren't men at all. These grotesque looking _creatures_ in the shape of man snarled at hissed at him, barring sharp fangs and pointed ears. They were short, all of them. Some had an ashy green skin colour, others were larger, but still dwarfed by Gerome, and had a greyish colour to them. Gerome scrunched up his nose as he smelled a terrible stench emanating from these beasts.

One of these creatures rushed him, breaking Gerome out of his trance. It swung its crude sword wildly at him. Gerome parried the strike then swung his axe forward. He grimaced upon hearing the sickly crack of his blade breaking the creatures ribs. He pulled his axe free from its chest and out flowed black blood, staining the grey stones beneath it. The creature fell back writhing in pain as three more approached him, swinging their brutally made weapons just as poorly as the other. He sidestepped the first and swiped his axe along its back, the second lunged forward, thrusting its sword at Gerome's chest, but he was faster than this creature. Gerome expertly dodge the thrust and struck its neck, then in one motion cut down the third as it approached.

He fought alone, swiftly moving between the creatures, striking down foe after foe. Their blades swung wildly at the air as Gerome was too fast for them.

Finally, the creatures let up and started to flee toward the beginning of the bridge. Gerome paused and looked around, many bodies of his fallen enemies were scattered around him. Some crawled away to their comrades, whimpering from their wounds.

Though they were ugly things, Gerome still felt wrong fighting them. His only enemies in the future were Risen, they felt no pain and they did not bleed. These creatures were living and breathing, they felt fear and pain just like he did, and it irked him to see their lifeless corpses thrown about.

About fifty or so of the creatures had stayed behind as the many others fled, and they had now formed a clumsy formation at the beginning of the bridges as they approached Gerome cautiously.

He raised his axe high and bolted straight for the enemy. This seemed to have surprised them as some of them instantly retreated upon seeing Gerome charge. He crashed into the first row, sending the first few creatures staggering back as he then swung his axe around, felling many before him.

He was enough by himself to break the lines of the creatures and they fled from Gerome's axe and they scurried away into buildings and around side streets. The street before the bridge was now clear of any enemy.

But Gerome could hear the rattling of armour and the stamping of many feet coming closer to him. Round the corners of side streets and out from buildings came hundreds more creatures, they bore the same sharp teeth and pointed ears as the others before, but these were much larger, almost reaching his height, with skin as black as coal. He readied his axe, though there was an uneasiness settling in the back of his mind and he started to become anxious.

Gerome then heard marching coming from behind him. He turned and saw the knights had reformed and moved to the beginning of the bridge. There they formed a tight shield wall, two men deep. A few archers from behind their lines drew back their bows. Gerome tensed as he heard the whooshing sound of arrows flying passed his head and into the enemy.

A knight then called out to him,"You there! Mor-rohir! Quickly, get behind us!" Gerome nodded and hurried to the knights as they opened their ranks to let him in. As he came to the back of their lines he was met by one of them. He was tall, broad and strong. Gerome could see light brown hair peeking out from underneath his pointed helmet, which seemed to be more ornate than the other knights. Ot had an intricate winged design with another winged shape piece judging out from its center, above the eyes. His other armour consisted of similar intricacies. Gerome surmised that this Knight was their captain.

"You fight with the ferocity of ten men, Mor-rohir." he said, "Though your manner of arrival is questionable, how can I trust you are an ally?"

"Brother, I doubt an enemy would assail the _Orcs_ like he did," came another's voice. He was tall as well, though a bit thinner than the broad Knight. He was dressed in simple leathers with a white tree and seven stars embroidered on the front. He carried a longbow in one hand with a sword in the other.

"I saw your forces clashing with these... _Orcs_ , and I decided to intervene."

The Captain nodded while keeping a wary eye on Gerome. "Very well, your intervention was much needed. We would have been overrun if you did not drive them back."

"My captain, the Orcs approach!" another Knight said suddenly, and their attention was now turned back toward their advancing foe.

The Captain put a heavy hand on Geromes shoulder. "Fight beside us, Mor-rohir, I've ordered my men from the western shore to bring boats and ferry us across. Help us hold them back until they arrive," he said

Gerome simply nodded in response and took his place behind the knights. He steadied himself, his grip around his axe tightened. Though the feeling of uneasiness was still gnawing at the back of his mind and was starting to grow into a small feeling of fear.

The hordes slammed against the shields of the knights. The Orcs' crude swords glanced off their shields and armour, barely making a scratch. The Orcs tried to force their way through their wall by brute force, but the knights were steadfast against the tide. More and more orcs piled into each other now, and a few started to climb each other and over the shield wall. Gerome swing his axe at them, striking the Orcs as they pulled themselves over the knights.

' _This won't last'_ Gerome thought to himself. Even if the men had the better arms and armour there was just far too many. More and more orcs had arrived with every one killed five more took its place.

There was a commotion to his left and Gerome turned to see the shield wall had broken, and the creatures swarmed each man. With one side broken the rest soon followed. The men in front of him had now pulled back as they were overrun. Gerome however would not retreat just yet. He stood his ground, felling any Orc that got in the way of his axe. Though he noticed he was not alone in this effort. The Captain and his brother were fighting fiercely at his side.

For a moment they fought together. The orcs seemed to fear them as many would flee as the three approached, desperate to get away from Gerome's mighty axe.

Fewer and fewer orcs now came at them, and Gerome could see the knights had routed the enemy that broke their lines. The Captain then held his sword up high "Reform the shield wall!" He cried.

The knights now formed up along the mouth of the bridge once more. Their great tower shields held tightly together and spears pointed forward, though the orcs did not come. Instead they seemed to be slowly retreating. Gerome started to become more anxious now, and a steady feeling of fear now rose within him.

He slowed his breathing as he tried to calm himself, right now he had to focus or else he would lose his life here. But he just couldn't shake this feeling of fear.

Was it the fear of death? He doubted it, Gerome had been faced with death countless times, and he had long ago cast away his fear for it. There had to be something he wasn't seeing, something his instincts were telling him that Gerome just couldn't figure out.

Minerva suddenly roared above them, but Gerome could very much tell it wasn't a mighty roar but instead one of distress. She landed on the other side of the bridge and cowered under her wings.

"Minerva!" he called out to her, but she wouldn't even look his way. Gerome's brows furrowed, his wyvern has never once ignored his calls before. Since he was young, they had always shared a special bond. In any situation he could call upon his wyvern and she would respond to any of his commands. Gerome was truly baffled. This was extremely out of character for her. Surely these Orcs did not frighten her as not even the giant form of Grima could.

But then he felt it, a great dread washed over him, like the coming of a chilling winter breeze. He now noticed the battle had gone quiet. He looked back towards the knights and saw the creatures had now pulled away. But the men did not cheer. Gerome could see the fear ridden on their faces. He looked towards the horde and his breath hitched in his throat.

Trotting between the ranks of the orcs were nine riders cloaked in black, riding black horses. Their hoods were so dark that he couldn't make out any face underneath, though as they got closer Gerome could now see that there were no faces. Only a black abyss.

This was the source of his fear, he knew it. They seemed to just emanate a dark power and terror that Gerome had never felt before.

They stopped before them. A rider in the centre, who appeared to sit straighter and taller than the others, drew his wicked blade and held it high in the air. Gerome held his axe tightly in his hands but he hand no courage to even raise it.

"Men! Into the river!" The Captain cried, and all the soldiers fled, running off the bridge and toward the stone docks beside it. Gerome stayed still however, as he was overcome by a primal fear.

"Mor-rohir!" he heard someone call. A strong hand then pulled him back. It was the captain,

"The boats are close, but we don't have time to wait for them. Come!" he said.

Gerome didn't even bother responding and he retreated with the Captain. He looked back for a moment and saw the orcs were now rushing after them once more. Arrows were now being shot at them, glancing off their armour.

They all came to the shallow banks of the river. Gerome could see a few row boats approaching, though still some ways off.

The Captain was the first to run into the river, proceeded by his brother. The rest of the soldiers followed, casting away their weapons and pulling off any armour they could. Gerome took one last look behind, seeing the mass of beasts running to them. And behind, the looming demonic shapes on their black horses.

He entered the river, running into the shallow banks that grew deeper with each step he took until the slope dropped off and the water was now at his neck. Gerome paddled hard with his arms to keep himself afloat in his heavy armour. There were many men about him struggling to stay afloat. Gerome stubbornly held on to his axe. It used to belong to his late mother, he'd never even think to part with it.

The row boats seemed to move as slow as snails as Gerome struggled against his weight. The pattering sound of arrows piercing the water was all about them as the Orcs fired their bows. A man cried out in pain as he was struck in his neck from an arrow. Gerome could only watch helplessly as the man sunk to the depths.

"Minerva!" Gerome hollered again, but his cries would not be heeded from his wyvern. The terror of those riders in black was too much, even for her.

Gerome swam toward the boats, but his arms felt like cinder blocks, and each time he drew himself up he was pulled a little more under the water. It was as if a hand was tugging at his legs from the bottom of the river, pulling him deeper.

Finally, Gerome could take no more. His arms would not move, and he sunk to the darkness of the great river.

Suddenly a figure tore through the water and grasped at Gerome. It latched on to his cape and violently pulled him upwards. Gerome tore through the surface of the water as he was heaved onto a rowboat. He sat there for a moment, coughing up water. After regaining his composure, he took a moment to look around him and saw a few soaked knights breathing heavily. There were other boats too, carrying the rest of the soldiers to the western shore. He also noticed the Captain as well as his brother was with him in the boat. The Captain's brother had his hands on Gerome's cape. It seemed that it was him that saved Gerome from drowning.

He looked at him and nodded slightly, "Many thanks, you have saved me from my end." Gerome said to him.

The captain's brother gave a small smile, "It was you who charged the enemy alone a moment ago to assist us, it was only right to return the favour."

Gerome grunted as he turned to look back at the eastern shores. The Orcs stood on the banks sneering and shouting in some foreign and demonic speech.

Gerome watched them with hard eyes and their shapes grew smaller as the boats approached the western shore. Many questions came to him then. Just what were these _Orcs_? And where had they come from? And lastly, what was that _dark power_ from the riders?

"Orcs," he said suddenly, "What are they?"

"They are a race of cruel and twisted beings who exist only to destroy," spoke the Captain. "Have you never encountered them before?"

"I had never known such creatures even existed until today." Gerome said plainly. The men in the boat seemed puzzled by this as they looked at him with confused faces.

"How can that be? There is not any land in this world that hasn't been tainted by their presence." The captain asked.

' _That's interesting'_ Gerome thought. ' _Orcs have been everywhere, so why do I not know about them?'_ He sighed, it was something he'd have to research later.

"What about those black riders? What manner of man are they and why did I fear them?"

The men in the boat were deathly silent, staring downwards with hard eyes and faces showing a great pain.

The Captain exhaled suddenly, as if he was holding his breath, "They are an ancient and terrible enemy, I do not wish to darken this already dark day with talk of them so soon, but know that they are a fearsome foe, and that fear you felt was their chief weapon."

Gerome nodded in understanding. He was content with this explanation for now. In his heart he truly didn't want to know more about them anyway.

"I have been meaning to ask you," the Captain said again, "From where do you hail?"

"Ylisse," Gerome said.

The two brothers looked at each other for a moment. "Ylisse," repeated the Captain while he stroked his chin. "You are the second man I've heard that hails from there, though I have not seen it on any map,"

"Indeed," cut in the captain's brother, "I have asked many of the Loremasters in Minas Tirith, none have ever heard of such a place."

Gerome's eyes narrowed behind his mask, "You..don't know Ylisse? Yet you've met someone from there already?"

"We have," replied the Captain, "Months ago, while I was patrolling the Great Wall of Rammas Echor, I came across a rather...callous fellow wandering around the gates. At first I thought I had come across another wizard since he wore a strange pointed hat, but this lad was far too young. I tried questioning him but he kept on berating my men about the condition of the wall. I bore his rambling for a whole hour before I had my men seize him for questioning. He then told me he hails from Ylisse and his name was Laurent. Do you know him?"

"Yes," said Gerome, " He was among my companions that travelled...here."

"I see, in truth I would have simply sent him on his way, though he seemed to have an affinity for _magic_. He also told me a strange thing. He said he had never heard of the realm of Gondor before. Or of Mordor."

"Neither have I," Gerome deadpanned.

The captain's brother furrowed his brows while stroking his chin, "So, you do not know of our lands and we do not know of yours. This is strange to say the least. How is it that you even ended up here?"

"I'll tell you another time, once I see a map. Where is Laurent now, by the way?"

"In Minas Tirith. My father was also quite interested in his story, so he gave him access to the great Library in the Citadel. My brother and I shall take you to him, when we go to report to our Father."

Finally the boats halted at the banks of the western shore and all the knights shakily jumped out. They were met by many other soldiers. One of them, who now had bandages wrapped around a still bleeding wound on his arm, approached The Captain and his brother.

"Please forgive me, my Lords, for not sending the boats quicker, more men would have survived had I not tended to my wounds first."

"Do not worry, if not for Mor-rohir aiding us in battle, many more would have perished." The Captain said while gesturing towards Gerome.

"Why do you call me that? That's not my name."

"Mor-rohir, it means _Dark Knight_ in the language of the elves. I did not have your name so I did not know what to call you other than what I saw." The captain then outstretched his hand towards Gerome.

"I am sorry, I did not give you a proper introduction of myself. I am Boromir, son of Denethor, captain of Gondor and high warden of the white tower, and this is my brother Faramir, captain of the rangers of ithillien. Might I have your name?"

He clasped Boromir's hand, "Gerome, son of Virion."

Boromir gave him a warm smile, "Well Gerome son of Virion, you have mine and my men's thanks. You have proven yourself to be an ally of Gondor."

Gerome simply grunted in response. Suddenly a great roar from the broken bridge caught their attention. It was Minerva, Gerome could tell she was still in distress, he then rushed off towards the bridge to see her, followed by Boromir and Faramir.

When he came to the bridge he saw a few men with spears waving them at her, as well as some shooting arrows at her tough scales. Gerome felt an anger rise within him. He hurried towards the men with spears and pushed them away from Minerva. "Stop it! You're scaring her!" He said while he gently caressed his wyvern's head.

"This is your fell beast? What enemy are you?" Said one of the soldiers.

"She's not a beast!" Gerome quickly cut in.

"Nor is he an enemy," came Boromir's voice. "Stand down men, Morrohir and his... _mount,_ are allies of Gondor."

The spear and bowmen relaxed themselves as they watched Gerome gently soothe his wyvern. He then heard small chuckling coming from the brothers. "Something funny?" Gerome asked.

"It just seems so strange for one to have a strong connection to this... _flying animal"_ Faramir said. Gerome looked back to Minerva.

"She used to belong to my mother. She has been my trusted wyvern for many battles. Minerva is quite friendly, but she hates spears."

"Well, I will tell my men to leave Minerva be." Boromir said. Boromir then turned toward the gathering soldiers, "Come now lads, a hard day has been fought, I'd say we have earned some good rest, and a hearty meal!"

The soldiers surrounding them seemed to be pleased with this as they cheered and rushed off. Boromir then turned toward Gerome, "Are you going to join us?"

Gerome shook his head, "I'll stay here, with Minerva."

"So be it, I'll have my men bring you some food for you and your wyvern." Boromir and Faramir waved at Gerome as they then left with their soldiers. He was now left alone on the bridge.

Gerome looked around at the ruined city as he gently stroked Minerva's head. She seemed eased now and she cooed softly under his hands. It was quiet around him, except for the footsteps of passing soldiers. Though they were sparse. He spared a glance to the eastern shore and noticed there was no sign of any enemies, no orcs, and no _black riders_.

' _Gondor, Mordor, what are these places. Where did I even end up?'_ He mused in his mind.

'These men don't know of Ylisse either, is this even the past of our world?' He quickly dismissed the thought. He trusted Lucina and Naga enough not to mislead him. After all, there was still much of the world he hadn't seen. But what he was certain of is that he was far from home, and far from his mission. He sighed to himself. He'd just have to wait to see what the coming days would bring.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: **A Night of Terror.**

**Lucina**

Lucina looked around her frantically as she navigated the darkness of her latest nightmare. Suddenly, a faint orange glow pierced the blackness, growing brighter every second. She curiously sniffed the air, the scent of burning wood and brick reached her nose. The glow became brighter and seemed to flicker and dance.

 _'Fire,'_ she thought, _'Something is on fire!'_

She rushed towards the flame. As she came closer, her breath hitched in her throat once she realized what it was that was burning. Ylisstol, her home, ablaze on that fateful night before her departure. Even from where she stood she could hear the terrible screams of its inhabitants. The world contorted and shifted around and she was now standing inside the throne room. The brave soldiers of Ylisse she'd fought beside were slaughtered by endless hordes of Risen. She tried to attack, but her sword simply passed through as if she was swinging at air. The building around her suddenly crumbled as a dark smoke filled the room. Six glowing red eyes pierced the darkness. Her sword fell to the ground as she then fell to her knees. A twisted laugh bellowed from Grima's horned head. The hopelessness that filled her in the future returned and she couldn't stop tears from flowing down her cheeks.

"You will fail," came Grima's bellowing voice,"You can never hope to stop what is set in motion! The world will burn, and all will come to ruin!"

She then felt something within herself, a small feeling of anger, of frustration building inside her. She rose to her feet, now standing tall and proud, and faced Grima with hardened eyes lit with fury. "No! We can stop you," She said, "Hope will never die as long as I stand in your way. I will not let you bring doom to the world, not again!"

Grima's enormous neck sharply jerked itself to look directly at her, twisting about as it lowered itself to be level with where Lucina stood.

She then felt something that made her hairs stand tall on the back of her neck. She felt like someone or rather _something_ was watching her. Grima hissed and disappeared into the blackness, leaving her alone with whatever terrifying presence was behind her. Dread and fear washed over her. She whipped her body around to see something else appearing from the black, Lucina's eyes widened and she began to shake uncontrollably as she saw the phantom-like form of the black rider with it's piercing gaze and icy aura. A cold pale hand reached out for her and she screamed.

Though it's hand did not reach her as it too had faded to black. Her surroundings became brighter and she found herself in a serene garden surrounded by high walls, walls that she knew all too well. She was the gardens in the citadel of Ylisstol, the ones that she spent so much of her childhood lounging in when she wasn't training. The strong scent of its flowers came to her and put her troubled mind to ease. She felt her eyelids become heavy and she fell back into a deep sleep.

Lucina's eyes shot open, back into the real world. She stayed laying flat on her stomach for a bit as a raging headache pounded in her ears. It was dark outside, she noticed, but there seemed to be a faint orange glow that coated the trees around her. She looked around for the source and finally saw a flame from a lit torch. And carrying that torch was a figure hooded and cloaked, and there were others too. Finally her eyes were able to focus on the figures. When she finally was able to focus her mind flooded with recognition of their tall and rugged forms, the bandits from before were back!

Lucina snapped to her feet and leaped back, drawing her sword as she did. Her eyes frantically darted between each man, and her breath was ragged and hollow. She felt terribly cold and her sword shook in her hand as she herself could not keep a confident composure. "St-stay back! O-or I shall strike all of you down!"

From the dim glow from the torches on their faces Lucina could see they seemed confused, others seemed wary. Some had their hands on their swords, ready to draw. The tallest of them, the one she had fought, slowly approached her, Lucina backed away as he did.

"Be at ease boy!" He said, "You are still being affected by the black breath." He waved behind him and another bandit strode forward, he carried in his hands a small wooden bowl with a steaming liquid inside. "Breath in these fumes boy, it will ease your mind," the tallest Bandit said again.

Lucina furrowed her eyebrows. Whatever it was that was in that bowl, she knew it was simply a lure to let her guard down. "Do you take me for a fool!?" she shouted.

"No harm will come to you from these fumes, you have my word." The tallest Bandit took the bowl in his own hands and made an effort to draw in a deep and audible breath. He then held the bowl out to her. "Come now, boy, we haven't much time." She almost snapped at the Bandit for calling her 'Boy', but that's what she wanted anyways, she was happy to at least know that her disguise worked well.

"How do I know you don't seek to poison me?"

"We used it already to wake you from your collapsed state, and were it not for this herb you would never have woken again."

She eased up a bit, perhaps this wasn't some sort of noxious or enchanting liquid. Though they were still suspicious. She sheathed her sword and slowly approached the bandit and reached for the bowl. She recoiled a bit at the sudden warmth from the wooden bowl. She stepped back a bit, making sure to keep a wary eye on the men as they watched her. She then drew in the steam from the liquid and to her surprise a bright warmth swiftly coursed through her, and she felt her fear and anxiety immediately vanish. Replaced now by a feeling of calmness and relaxation, no longer was she a jittery mess, but stood a little taller as her confidence and valour regained their footing in herself. Oddly, the liquid smelled to her of the flowers in Ylisstol's Gardens, and a bit of the perfume her mother used to wear.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"It is Athelas, or kingsfoil as known to most. It is a rare find in the wild. Much healing power it has against the ailments of the world, and more so against the powers of the darkness," said one of the bandits. She handed the bowl back to the tallest and backed away a few paces. For a moment they stared at eachother in silence, the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Lucina thought about drawing her sword, but she was curios as to why the Bandit's had lent their aid, and she wanted to know just what those _Black riders_ were. They clearly knew about them.

Suddenly the tallest bandit spoke in a booming voice, "We cannot let you continue in these lands alone. Though I have reason to doubt your intentions are ill, I still want more information on how you seemingly slipped passed our defences. So you may come with us on peaceful terms, or should you wish," he quickly drew his sword, the others immediately followed suit, "We shall force you."

Lucina drew in a deep breathe and exhaled heavily. She then placed a strong grip on Falchion and drew it swiftly. There were ten or so Bandits, in any other situation Lucina would not take the risk, but in the dark both the vision of her self and the enemy were greatly hindered. She had confidence her speed would give her the edge in this. She stood now before her adversaries, unmoving as a rock in water. She would not be taken now, the future of this world was dependant upon her, she had to stop Grima!

"If you but knew the urgency of my mission, you'd do well not to hinder me," she began, "The world is in danger, everyone will perish should I not reach my destination in time, this matter is beyond any of you petty thieves. Now _let me pass_! Or I shall strike you down!"

The threat was not taken lightly amongst the Bandits, but their Captain appeared calm, "You misunderstand us," the tallest Bandit said

But before he could explain further, multiple shrill sounding screeches filled the night air, striking terror into Lucina's heart, she instantly covered her ears and dropped down to her knees. When the screeches finally subsided after what felt like an eternity, the men were all in a frenzy. "The Nine have returned!" were their fear stricken shouts as they retreated. Lucina tried to do the same, but something had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. She looked and saw the tallest bandit was tugging at her arm,

"You're coming with us!" he said in haste. Lucina didn't think twice and instantly threw out her fist, feeling it connect with his jaw and he staggered back.

She ripped free of his grasp and sprinted off into the trees. "No boy! Come back!" they called out to her. She of course would not heed their shouts. She ran through the wild as fast as her feet could carry her, ducking and weaving between the trees and thick vegetation. The darkness of the night made it difficult for her to navigate through the forest with speed, and she winced when stray branches cut her face, but she kept onwards. Lucina only had one thing on her mind, she had to get away. Far, far away from whatever those screeches belonged to, which she was certain were more of those 'Black Riders.'

In the distance she could hear the quick stamping of horses hooves and steel clashing against steel. The fear stricken cries of the bandits reached her ears and she quickened her pace.

It was some time later when she was bent against a tree, gasping for air. She would have preferred to continue for no matter how far she got away she knew she wasn't far enough. But her legs burned and her feet felt like bricks, she would have to stay put for the moment. She sat against the tree breathing heavily, trying to collect her thoughts on this day, and what a day it had been. She definitely considered this to be her most unluckiest day of her entire life. First she had emerged alone, with no sign of her companions anywhere, then she was ambushed by a troop of the most skilled bandits she'd ever faced, who'd never even heard of one of the most powerful nations in the world? But there was then the last and perhaps the most troublesome, her encounters with whatever demonic beings those Black Riders were.

Where had they come from? Were they men? Or were they perhaps something far more sinister? She knew for certain they weren't Risen, for not even their greatest champions, the DeadLords, could strike so much fear and terror at those just by the same _vicinity_ as them. Not even Grima had that effect on her. And those screeches, a cold shiver coursed through her just from the very thought of it. Those weren't the kind of sounds a Risen could make, or anything else rather.

Her musings were cut short however as she then heard the slow clopping sounds of a horse's hooves coming from behind the tree she sat against, though it sounded far. Suddenly, the howls of the night time birds and chirping of insects instantly vanished and she felt herself being filled with an all too familiar dread. She cautiously peeked around the trunk and almost screamed. Just in front of where she sat was a distinctive black shape, far blacker than the darkness of the night, moving through the trees. A long silver sword appeared with it, it's blade shone as it reflected the pale moonlight. It appeared to be one of the riders, dismounted. Though it appeared that it had not noticed her yet. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and tried hard to muffle her ragged breaths. It scanned the trees around her, it's head, if it even had one, was darting all around, all the while making some sort of sniffing sound.

Thinking quickly, Lucina grabbed a fallen branch, being as careful as she could to not make any sound as she did, she then turned and threw it as far as she could into the bushes that were a good distance away from her tree. The sniffing sounds from the rider instantly seized and it shreaked loud as it moved towards the bushes like the wind. She sat low against her tree with her eyes closed tight hoping, or praying, that the Rider would not see her. Eventually there was the sharp snapping of reins and a horse neighing loudly as it then sped off down the road.

She waited for a while listening closely for anything. Slowly the sounds of the nighttime forest returned. And Lucina was able to then take a deep and loud breath as if a huge weight had been lifted off her. She quickly snapped up and looked around, when no sign of the horse or the black shape could be seen, she quickly bolted farther into the forest, opposite the direction of the Rider.

Eventually she reached a shallow river that split the forest in two. She decided to cross it in the hopes of putting another obstacle between her and anything that pursued her. Though she felt a strong temptation sto stop and wash up, and in normal circumstances she would have, especially after the day she just had, but she knew that would be a luxury she could not afford now.

Lucina was unable to judge how deep the river went just by looking, as it was much too dark for that so she found a good sized tree branch and used that to check its depth. She found it wasn't very deep and she could cross it by walking without trouble. She stepped into the river without any hesitation, getting her feet wet was the least of her concerns at the moment. Though she shivered a bit from the coolness of the water.

Lucina soon reach the other side. She sharply turned back around and watched closely for a sign of anything that might have been following her. Though it was much too hard to make out anything in the dark, so she reluctantly turned and continued on into the forest. Eventually Lucina came across another dirt road that stretched for many miles. Following this road would be her best bet of finding safety, she decided, as it was certain to lead to some village or town. It wouldn't be wise to simply walk along it, so instead she stayed a few yards into the forest, making sure to stop every-now and then to checl for any pursuers. Lucina would not stop this night, she could not stop, not until she found civilization. But for now she had to stay vigilante against anything that could assail her on this terror filled night.


End file.
